Against the Shards of Mirror
by Serria
Summary: FBI agent Naomi Misora goes on a mission to arrest an evasive million dollar thief. Things don't go as planned, but maybe this was a taste of liberation. Naomi/Wedy, yuri.


Disclaimer: I do not own _Death Note_.

Summary: FBI agent Naomi Misora is assigned a mission to catch an evasive million dollar thief. Wedy/Naomi, yuri.

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**Against the Shards of Mirror**

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In retrospect, Naomi Misora couldn't believe that something like this had happened to her. It was humiliating, it was undignified and it was just plain ridiculous that she had put herself in such a situation. The more it nagged on her, the more it bothered her, until she was certain that she could tear that woman to pieces if she had the chance now. But she didn't have that chance, and she would probably never have it again.

At least no one else would know what had taken place on that night. True, everything happened in the grand Los Angeles Institute of the Arts, which was, prior to this incident, known for its fine security. True, there were video cameras and alarms and guards. But if security had been impenetrable, the FBI would've never sent Naomi in the first place. They weren't dealing with an ordinary thief. This was the cunning professional given the moniker Black Cat, and there wasn't a doubt in Naomi's mind that she had terminated all recordings that showed her face on record.

The Black Cat had, according to FBI estimates, stolen over a ten million dollar value, assuming the unlikely situation that she hadn't been involved in any other burglaring aside from what was confirmed in the recent months to be her work. But the Black Cat didn't just steal. This woman, whoever she was, played with her prey like a feline played with a cornered mouse or grasshopper, batting it with her paws and daring it to try to escape her. As such, the Black Cat had as good as told the cops where she was going to strike next by pilfering in a patterned sequence. It was clear that Black Cat enjoyed the challenge, and even more, she enjoyed humiliating her opposition as they failed to capture her.

Knowing this, Naomi had readily accepted her mission. She hadn't earned the title of 'Massacre Misora' for a reputation of timidness when it came to her work. On the contrary, she was dedicated to the point of burning obsession when she arrived at the museum that night. Security was firmly briefed with the night's plan. They were to beat the Cat at her own game and haul her in for a life sentence without parole.

Security was stationed in secret around the diamond display room, where, taking into consideration the past robberies, the Black Cat was most likely to strike. Not a single agent was confident enough to outwit the Cat and capture her on their own, as such, they would use full force without mercy and overpower her. No amount of cunning could get one woman out of a room with twenty-five armed guards.

As for Naomi, she was dressed only in normal clothes instead of donning her standard uniform. Her badge was hidden under her leather jacket, and also tucked in her belt was her handcuffs, communicator and gun. The position she was serving in this game was patrolling internal perimeter for suspicious activity while remaining ready to do ground work wherever the showdown ended up being.

There wasn't any excellent excuse as to why Naomi paused in one of the galleries. A particular piece had caught her eye - it was an abstract, with purple pastels erupting into real shards of mirror on a wide canvas. Her own reflection, torn in pieces by the uneven layers of glass, stared back at her. Dark eyes and glossy black hair that marked the Japanese descent that even she seemed to forget about often these days confronted her with the identical conviction that she harbored.

"Hmm..."

It felt like a lifetime ago when she had left Japan. She had been young then - of course, she supposed she was still young, but the truth was that age was only a number and she wasn't and never would be young in the same way again. Like a pioneer, Naomi flew to America for freedom, to find her own way of life. When the FBI offered her a position she thought for certain that her dream of living in adventure and independence would come true.

But 'Massacre Misora' looked back at her with eyes empty of anything but determination to succeed. The FBI wasn't liberation, it was another set of ropes that demanded nothing less than total commitment, on the threat of failure. Failing her employer was one thing, but Naomi was certain even worse would be failing herself.

Sighing, she brushed loose hair that fell messily over her cheek behind her ear and gave the reflection one last glance before continuing her patrol. However, at that moment, another face appeared in the mirror and she immediately halted.

"Pretty, isn't it," a soft voice purred, leaving it ambiguous if she was referring to the painting, Naomi's reflection, or her own.

With a chill, Naomi turned to set eyes on her target for the first time. The woman was tall, with height all the more from the stiletto heels of boots that rode up to her knees. She wore black leather, tightening around a feminine figure that stood proudly, but with just enough swagger with her gloved hand on her hip to suggest a cool confidence. Confidence was affirmed all the more by the upward curve of her red lips. Along the woman's shoulders fell blonde hair, as styled as a movie star, which was an image complimented by her dark sunglasses.

The Black Cat smirked at her, and Naomi gritted her teeth without allowing the frustration to betray her face. She had the option of pulling out her gun right now and count on that forcing the burglar to surrender, but her display of total confidence destroyed her own. Being brash wasn't going to work. If she could keep the woman's attention for long enough, her army of security would come and they would count on numbers to subdue her.

"Who are you, at this place so late?" Naomi asked as though she didn't have any idea. "The museum is closed to the public at this hour."

"Don't worry about it," the Black Cat grinned, sauntering near the paintings and studying them with mild curiosity. "I'm not the public."

Naomi put on a look of concern. "Well- then... did you come here on special permission?"

"That's right." The Black Cat tipped her head to the side, and waved a hand in the direction of a large oil masterpiece. "I came here to look at the artwork. You know, I'm quite a fan."

"...You must be, if you come at two o'clock in the morning."

She turned her face to Naomi, smiling widely. "Funny, you came to the same place at two in the morning."

"I guess you could say that," Naomi shrugged, trying to think of inconspicuous ways to reach behind her and click the emergency button of her communicator, but under the watch of the Black Cat such a feat seemed impossible. Her hand had twitched, but she made the movement look natural by leaning back against the metal railing that was supposed to keep visitors from getting too close to the paintings - a final security that, unfortunately, probably wouldn't be very helpful in this case. "I'm writing my dissertation on art of the Renaissance period, so I got a pass to come here to study the art in peace after hours."

"Really. Then, Miss Expert, tell me which one of these beauties is worth the most."

Naomi bristled. "Uh...what?"

"I'm in the market for expensive artwork, you see. I came to take something pretty away." The Black Cat chuckled, and then cooed, "Isn't that what you came to do? Take something pretty away?"

"I... I'd never steal-"

The woman laughed merrily, drowning out Naomi's feeble attempt at shock. Then she lowered her head, peering at Naomi from underneath her sunglasses, and taking a step forward. "You know, you're lovely, too. Maybe I should be the one taking you away with me, not the other way around..."

"..._What?_"

Of all of the things that Naomi Misora had been mentally preparing herself for during this mission, of all the preparations she had made, and of all the training she put herself through, this was not something that she had been ready for. Genuinely dumbstruck, she stared at this woman, this epitome of everything that she had made it her business to put behind bars, this smirking superstar of a burglar and found her heart thumping loudly.

"I think you'd like my way of life," the woman purred, prowling closer, one dainty step of her boots at a time. Every word was so delicately placed, dripping with perfected feminine allure. "But who wouldn't want freedom like mine? The question is, who can... handle it? You're a bombshell, but are you strong enough? Are you clever enough?"

Almost like an answer to the question, Naomi's warning senses went wild. The Black Cat was closing in on her like the blade of a knife, and Naomi dropped her upper body and shot her leg high into the air. The burglar turned her face and managed to dodge the brunt of the blow. Immediately, she also dropped her weight into a crouch, giving her the appearance of a stray cat waiting to lunge, and then she did. Instead of kicking, which would put Naomi in a extremely compromised position considering the sharpness of those stiletto heels, the Black Cat dived forward and, with a little chuckle, pressed Naomi against the exhibit bars and-

-and kissed her.

She gave a stifled gasp, and Naomi, through dizzying logic, didn't register what was going on immediately. Her predominant thought was that certainly she could hold a fight against this bitch if she tried, despite being of the smaller build. She was trained in Brazilian Caepora, and her brutality in a fight had been half of the reason behind her brand of 'Massacre Misora'. The problem was, for whatever reason, she wasn't trying.

The Black Cat lapped her tongue across Naomi's lips before entering them, breaking in with all the grace and ease as she broke into the museum with. She was assertive, even bordering on aggression against Naomi's stupefied passiveness, sucking tenderly but with firm control, and any attempt to turn away was stifled by the burglar's hand under her chin. The woman was warm and seductively gentle, brushing fingers through Naomi's hair, and past any point of rationality...

Somewhere, beyond all reason, Naomi wondered if this was a taste of freedom.

The Black Cat lowered herself onto the other, her waist and breasts pushing against Naomi's own. Naomi could feel the breath of this woman who answered to no authority, she could even feel the heartbeat of the bandit who basked in her own total liberation. Complete and absolute...

No, just a common thief with her eyes on diamonds. Naomi Misora couldn't afford to falter, not when a successful mission was literally in her grasp. If she fell prey to some trick of the moonlight, against the shards of mirror, then she deserved to have her dreams crushed into dust. Such a notion was unacceptable and in the end, through the shock and surprise, Naomi was too old to melt against a passing dream.

It was startling, it was almost inconceivable, and it was wrong. But this was a distraction as effective as any, and Naomi thought to try to activate her communicator while the burglar was preoccupied. If she could press the call of emergency, this would all be over in a few minutes and she could shove the shame aside as though it never happened. Feeling light headed, she crawled a hand behind her back, only to have it meet the Black Cat's.

And then suddenly, _snap_.

The steel of a handcuff coiled itself around her wrist, and another identical sound pinned the other end to the bars behind her. With a snarl and a curse, Naomi pulled away and kicked, but not before the woman's hand ran along her ass and burglared both her gun and her communicator from her belt. The thief tossed them across the room, completely out of Naomi's now-limited reach.

"Damn it!" she hissed, knowing better than to try to reason with the thief to kindly undo her handcuffs.

The Black Cat stood up, smirking proudly. "That was fun. I wish you would've been a little more responsive though."

"How did you know what I was?" Naomi demanded, crouching into a more dignified position with flames raging in her eyes.

The woman snorted. "Call it a sixth sense, if you like, though I call it common sense."

"You..!"

"Call me Wedy," she smiled, waving and walking the other way. "I really would love to steal you too, honey, but I'm on a tight schedule here. See ya around."

So Naomi was left with nothing to do but yell at the top of her lungs for backup. The Black Cat - Wedy - was as unconcerned as ever, and though she dashed out of the room like a breeze of black leather and blonde hair, the calm on her face gave the impression of a easy stroll. Furious, Naomi pulled against her handcuffs, but to no avail. She heard shouting from down the corridor, and even the sound of a gunshot, though of course Wedy escaped. There wasn't a doubt in Naomi's mind that she did.

She would be long gone a second later.

With a final curse, she curled her legs and leaned against the bars. As she waited in disgust for the security guards to get to her, she found herself wondering where Wedy was off to now. There was no way of knowing, and perhaps Wedy didn't know either. Wedy surely lived a life unbound by direction or expectation, she made her own rules and broke them when convenient. Naomi resented it, loathed it, envied it and after everything, she was the one trapped here while the other woman roamed .

Naomi touched her lips with her free hand, still wet from the kiss. It would take awhile before she could forget that she was carrying this small part of Wedy with her as she went into the office and took her next assignment. But a thought lingering longer was that Wedy's lips would also be wet, as though she were carrying a part of Naomi into the moonlight.

_-fin_

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Author's Notes:

1. Wanted to give Death Note yuri a try. Had a fun time trying to pick the two candidates and attempting to make it somewhat believable, in the end it ended up being Wedy (of course! ha) and Naomi. Oh man, is Wedy ever hard for me to write seriously now after Pandora's Mischief, hence why this is Naomi's POV.

2. Written for week 14 prompt "Wedy" in LJ community, dn-contest.

3. Made up the art institute. Made up everything, really. lol

Thanks for reading!


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